Deserter Read Free Page A

good about not saying it to her face.
    Kris saw no reason to pussyfoot around her birth connection today. “My Grandfather Al is working on something that might save my father, the Prime Minister, a chunk of the Navy’s budget if you decide, Commander, the Navy should freeze the Engineering space on the Kamikazes.”
    The Engineer chuckled, and the Captain rolled his eyes at the overhead. “They warned me that neither cowardice nor common sense had ever been mentioned in one of your fitness reports, Lieutenant. So, what might save me from telling BuShips that it has to totally unbalance the Prime Minister’s latest budget proposal?”
    “Nuu Enterprises is testing something it’s calling Uni-plex metal. This stuff holds its shape for the first two times it’s organized, then forgets it the third time you change it.”
    “Forgets it. Metal’s metal.” Engineering frowned.
    “Yes, sir, but the third time, it’s more like liquid mercury than armor plate.”
    “Who would want such a damn death trap?” Dale growled.
    Somebody who wanted somebody dead, Kris knew from all too personal experience, but she just shrugged for her fellow officers. She still was none too sure how she felt about Grampa Al’s making a profit from the stuff that had almost killed her.
    “Produced in thousand-ton lots, the Uni-plex costs about one-sixth of smart metal,” Kris told them. “When you add in the savings by it self-fabricating itself on ship, its competitive.”
    “Spoken like a true Longknife,” the Captain drawled dryly.
    But the Engineer was eyeing the schematic. “How much of my engine room is smart metal?”
    “Computer, answer the man,” Kris said aloud. Numbers appeared on the table.
    “Three hundred fifty tons,” Dale said thoughtfully.
    “Plus a hundred tons of extra protection,” Kris added.
    “But if we gave back three hundred fifty tons of smart metal . . .”
    “And drew four hundred fifty tons of not quite so smart metal . . .” Kris added.
    “Then the Navy would actually be saving money by converting the Engineering space of the forty Kamikazes,” Captain Hayworth finished with a chuckle.
    “Sixteen thousand tons of smart metal would build us five or six more boats, sir,” Kris concluded.
    “Got to love it when you can make everyone happy.” Dale sighed.
    “From way out in left field,” the Captain agreed.
    “Maybe, maybe not.” The Engineer sat up. “Has your Grandad Al checked how smart metal gets along with its retarded cousin? If I can’t order this Uni-plex stuff to fix battle damage, I’m going to have to spray in smart metal around dumb metal.”
    Kris shook her head. “They aren’t that far along.”
    “We can’t have this Uni-plex migrating around the boat,” the Captain added. “It could make for thoroughly unpleasant surprises.” All three officers nodded at that conclusion.
    Dale got to his feet. “I got to check on the rest of my snipes, see if they’ve dug up anything new on our test.”
    “Keep me informed.”
    Kris stood to follow the Engineer out. “A moment, Lieutenant.” A knowing smile crossed the Engineer’s face as he closed the door behind him. Kris turned to face her Captain, going back to a brace that would have made her DI at OCS proud.
    “Once more, Lieutenant Longknife,” the Captain began,
    “you have succeeded in turning insubordination into a virtue.”
    Kris had no answer for that, so she kept her mouth shut. “One of these days, it will not be a virtue. One of these days you will discover why we do things the Navy Way. I only hope that I will be there when you discover that . . . and that too many good spacers don’t die with you.”
    Again, Kris had no answer for her Captain, so she used the Navy’s all-purpose response: “Yes, sir.”
    “Dismissed.”
    Kris went. Once more she’d been raked over the coals for doing the right thing the wrong way. Still, the Captain hadn’t been as hard on her as he could have been. At least he had